


Your Body is Mine

by artemis1967



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam Winchester, Dark Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, M/M, Soulless Sam Winchester, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis1967/pseuds/artemis1967
Summary: He snaps.And when that happens, it's not pretty.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 120





	Your Body is Mine

He snaps.

And when that happens, it's not pretty.

Dean looks at the man tied to the bed, and who pretends to be his little brother. The body belongs to Sam, but it's like looking at a stranger. The part still in the Cage is what makes Sam who he is, and Dean needs his little brother back, with his soul and complete again.

Ropes attach Sam's wrists to the headboard, and his attempts to escape are futile because Dean learned from the best. He doesn't even know how many times he had to remake the knots until he learned how to tie them efficiently. John Winchester was strict, and Dean was always a good soldier.

Sam doesn't have a chance.

After he discovered that Sam's soulless, Dean has been watching over his little brother like a hawk. John's command to look out for Sammy has never been more present in his life.

And that's why Dean was pissed when he saw his little brother fucking some random guy for the third time in the same week.

Dean knew Sam was with someone in their hotel room, but there was no sock at the door, as agreed between them. So, he was free to enter the room, and when he did, Sam was riding a guy like a two-cent whore. Anger vibrating through every part of his body is all Dean remembers feeling at that moment. Without thinking about the consequences, he pulled Sam off the guy, who left the room as if he was being followed by a demon, and naked as the day he was born.

Sam's initial surprise had turned to indifference, and Dean just reacted. Violently. With a well-placed punch to the clean-shaven jaw, he knocked Sam out. After that, it was easy to maneuver Sam in the position he wanted, tying the unconscious man to the headboard.

"What the Hell, Dean! Lemme go."

Despite all the struggling, the bonds don't give in the slightest. Dean did an excellent job.

After weeks of thinking about it, Dean had a moment of clarity. Now he knows how to fix this mess until he has his Sammy back. It's crystal clear to Dean what RoboSam needs, even if his brother doesn't realize it by himself. That's why the soulless man is tied to the bed, and Dean's going to do whatever it takes to protect Sam's body until he has his sweet little brother back.

"We need to work things out before I let you go." Dean's voice is cold as ice. He doesn't want to give any doubts about who's in charge here.

Approaching the bed, Dean enjoys his work. Wrists are tied to the headboard while ropes attach ankles to the feet of the bed. The powerful and lethal body is vulnerable, at the mercy of Dean's desire. And he takes immense pleasure in knowing he can do whatever he wants, and no one can stop him.

So, there is a plump ass to tempt Dean, like an easy prey attracting the interest of the predator. Dean is the predator here, of course. His right hand caresses the pale skin, and the softness isn't something he expects. Delighted, Dean massages the skin under his fingers and his body reacts inevitably, cock growing inside his pants.

"Is that what you want?" Sam sounds curious, looking at him over his shoulder. "I can give you this. Untie me, and you won't regret it."

Dean stares at his brother before reaching for his belt. Sam doesn't understand what's going on here. This is not just about pleasure, but about who's in charge, who's the power. But Sam will learn it. Dean will be sure of that.

The first sharp crack of leather echoes in the motel room, and it's accompanied by a cry of pain.

"Son of a bitch! I'm not in that kind of crap."

Wrists and ankles struggle ineffectively against restrictions. The anger and pain that Dean hears are a bonus for him. He's had enough of that cold, stoic bastard. Dean will make him feel, even if it's just anger and pain. Any emotion is better than none in Dean's opinion.

"That's not the point here, Sam."

The next whip of the belt marks the pale skin of the muscular thighs, which tremble with the impact.

"At the right time, you'll understand."

Sharp blow hits the firm buttocks, and Sam's attempt to close his knees only makes him arch his ass, exposing himself even more to Dean. And that's when he notices the lube, the cruel evidence of Sam's previous activities. His brother is using a body that doesn't belong to him. Anger and jealousy explode in Dean's veins, reflecting on each blow since then.

"This body belongs to me until Sam returns," Dean says, anger thick in his voice.

Each smack is calculated to cause pain without permanent damage, which awakens learned skills for what seems like a lifetime ago. For someone who had mediocre school performance, Dean was a brilliant student in Hell. The pride of his mentor. Alastair used to say that violence was a part of Dean, that it needed to be released from inside him to shine on the surface. And now he believes in his mentor, especially when each hit leaves its mark on the hitherto flawless skin. Even more so when Dean feels no guilt or remorse for the pain inflicted; on the contrary, his cock starts swelling with every grunt and smack, getting completely hard when he drops the belt on the floor.

"Lemme go, you lunatic," Sam growls weakly, but the challenging look loses its effect on the tear-stained face, and Dean's cock twitches inside his pants.

"Who do you want to fool Sam?"

Dean touches the hot red skin of Sam's ass, making his little brother wince.

"If I'm right, and I usually am, it wasn't just me who was having fun."

Dean puts his hand between Sam's legs and confirms his suspicion. Wrapping his fingers around the hard cock, he pulls it back, and the moan he hears now has nothing to do with pain.

"I saw you rubbing against the sheets, whore."

Dean moves his hand slowly as drops of pre-come ooze out of Sam's slit.

"It's not what you're thinking," his little brother gasps under his ministrations.

"The only thing I see is a whore tainting a body that doesn't belong to him."

"I am your brother, asshole."

"No, you are not."

Releasing the swollen cock, Dean holds the heavy balls, massaging it, before moving his fingers over Sam's hole. Dean takes his time, circling the wrinkled skin a few times and only then inserting two of his fingers. The tightness around his fingers is tempting, and if it weren't for the certainty that Sam had been fucked before, Dean might have thought he was almost virginal.

"My brother is in that fucking Cage with Lucifer. And that's exactly why I'll be your guide from now on," Dean begins to reveal his plans to the tied man.

"What?" Sam asks, making a strangled noise when Dean hits his prostate.

"I'll be your morality and guide your actions. Nothing will happen to this body without my permission. Anyway, I'll be your master from now on."

Despite the restrictions, his brother arches his ass, swallowing Dean's fingers even more. And Sam is so goddam responsive that he's intoxicating. Dean wonders if his Sam is like this too because he's so reserved about his sex life that Dean suspects he doesn't even get laid on a regular basis.

"You can be whatever you want, big brother. But I need sex regularly."

"It's not a problem at all. I'll give you what you need. But just me and no one else."

"Are you going to fuck me?"

There is no judgment in Sam's eyes. It's as if they are talking about trivial things.

"Yeah."

The lustful look at him is no surprise to Dean.

"Not that I care, but you know we're brothers, don't you?"

"Cut it out, Sam. I see the looks when you think I'm not paying attention. And I saw you masturbating, three fingers on your ass and my name on your lips."

"Your precious little brother has always had a crush on you, but he never dared to do anything about it."

Muscles around Dean's fingers tighten, and he relishes the moment, knowing that soon this heat and tightness will be enveloping his cock.

"But why just now, Dean? Why haven't you done anything about it before?"

The answer is simple. Sam was always the one who kept Dean human. With his little brother in the Cage, there is nothing to stop this side of him from going out to play. His desire for Sam is not new to him. He doesn't remember when it started, but he does remember that it all got worse when he picked up his brother at Stanford. Sam has always been his since he was four years old and carried his little brother out of that house on fire. And Sam has always been at his disposal to be taken and owned, but Dean never had courage. So, of course, he never did anything about that. Guilt has always prevented any action in that direction, until now. But Sam, or rather this thing, doesn't need to know that.

"It's none of your business."

Dean pulls his fingers out without any care, hand slapping one of the rounded asscheeks still red just to see the man on the bed squirm.

"By the way, it will happen, and there's nothing you can do about it, Sam."

Dean takes off his clothes as quickly as possible while watching Sam rub himself against the sheets, defined muscles constrained by rope, and Dean's marks decorating the skin of Sam's ass and thighs. It's practically an artwork.

Careful, Dean reaches for his knife before climbing onto the bed and straddling Sam's narrow waist, his hard cock makes contact with the sweaty skin of his brother's back. The hiss is muffled by the pillow where Sam puts his face, though.

Dean grabs the soft hair, pulling Sam's head back painfully. He puts the knife against the long neck, forcing it but without cutting the skin.

"Did you think it would be easy to bossy me around now that you're soulless?" Sam's expression says it all.

Dean laughs at the naivety of his soulless brother.

"New flash, man, the lack of a soul doesn't give you superpowers. I can still kick your ass with one hand tied."

Sam doesn't seem very convinced about that, but his little brother will be certain when Dean ends up with him.

"I'll untie your legs, and you'll behave. Any attempt to escape or kick and my knife will be useful."

Sam barely breathes and only responds when Dean releases a little pressure over his neck.

"Yes."

For a moment, he sees panic racing through Sam's eyes, but that disappears in seconds, replaced by the expression that's pure logic, which annoys Dean.

"Yes, sir," Dean orders, moving the knife to Sam's cheek.

The challenge is back on the face that was once so sweet and kind. Not that Sammy hasn't been argumentative and stubborn many times, but the differences between their reactions are so evident that Dean's heart aches.

Without waiting any longer, Dean cuts. It's superficial and won't even scar, but Sam needs to understand Dean's going to do whatever is necessary until he's his little brother back.

A trickle of blood runs down the flushed cheek.

"Yes, sir," Sam finally says.

Dean lets go of Sam's hair, who pushes his head into the pillow and relaxes under him. And maybe Sam is starting to understand how things are going to work between them.

Allowing himself to admire the body beneath him, Dean rubs his erection between Sam's buttocks a few times, the knife running across the broad shoulders and down to the lean hips. There is no reaction other than small tremors and chills on the skin glistening with sweat. All that expansion of skin is at Dean's disposal. And for him to do whatever he wants. Inevitably, he wants to do many things. Or more accurately, he'll do them. There are no limits—no more—and he'll make sure of that.

Dean moves to Sam's feet, releasing one at a time, not before without using the knife over the skin of his brother's ankles, a reminder that any disobedience will be punished. Sam remains quiet the entire time, though, and Dean can still see the proof of his excitement between the long legs. Dean isn't the only sadist in this equation apparently.

When Dean pushes the bony knees forward, it exposes the small hole even more, and the effect it has on him is devastating. Dean feels like a thirsty man after years and years of repressed desire.

Feeling free at last, Dean settles between the open legs. He massages the shapely asscheeks, which provokes an almost inaudible groan from Sam. This shouldn't be comfortable after the work done by his belt, but what matters right now is the purpose of it all. Sam will get over it and learn his place.

Spittle is all Dean uses to lubricate his erection, stroking the entire length a few times before positioning himself. Sam's still open, and for this reason, Dean pushes into him in one hard slide. The anal muscles tighten reflexively, trying to stop the intrusion without success. Sam cries out, opening his eyes, and new tears run down his face, mixing with the blood from the small cut. For Dean, there is beauty in his brother’s pain. And it's something that Dean has always had to fight against since he was rescued from Hell, his appreciation for pain. With Sammy, he always made an effort to never hurt him, but things are different with RoboSam, which is why Dean just reacts and don't try to stop his emotions, no matter how negative they are.

When Dean feels his brother relax, he's able to enjoy the perfect warmth involving his cock in its fulness. He feels at home like this, even though it's their first time. It's where Dean belongs. Never before in his life did Dean feel as complete as he does now, thrusting his cock in and out of his little brother's pliant body, balls connecting with the smooth skin of Sam's ass every time. His impulses are relentless, and grunts fill the room, but they are muffled by the son of flesh against flesh.

"I'll give you what you need. You need guidance—no more control of Samuel. You need to belong to the right person. Someone who will guide your steps properly."

"Wow, how convenient, Dean," the little shit still has the guts to sound sarcastic.

Dean ignores Sam's words and imposes his own rules, "From now on, you will obey me. Nothing happens to this body without my permission."

Fingerprints on Sam's hips catch Dean's eye suddenly, and a possessive growl leaves his throat consequently. He spends the next few minutes covering the marks with his own bruises, the rhythm of his hips never slowing down.

Dean claims the body that belongs to his little brother until Sam's absolute and inexorable surrender. Master is the only word Dean hears coming out of Sam's mouth when his brother comes. Muscles tighten around his cock while the beautiful lower back arches, long fingers in a death grip at the headboard. 

Sam comes with this desperate keening sound, and Dean fucks into him all through it, absorbing every contraction, moan and tremor until he loses himself to his euphoria and ecstasy, his orgasm sweeping over him vigorously.

Elaborate breaths, marks, semen, and sweat are all that remains in the end.

Minutes pass before Dean has the energy to get off the motionless body under him, his cock coming free of Sam's ass with an obscene squelch.

"You will never get him back." The words are spoken quietly.

Dean isn't affected by that, however. He knows what he has to do to get his little brother back, and nobody is going to stop him.

Grabbing Sam's hair, he turns his brother's head until he meets bright green eyes, traces of tears still on the handsome face.

"I will bring Sammy back, and there's nothing you can do about it. Until then, your body is mine."


End file.
